The High-Wizard's Hunt: Osric's Wand: Book Two (4 page)

Greyback glided slowly through the air above the palace grounds. Osric trembled with anger at seeing the sight where all of the trouble had begun. Still, it was obvious that crews had worked day and night to clear the debris and begin rebuilding the palace. Noticing an opening, Greyback circled around and landed gracefully on the platform.

Stepping off of Greyback’s wing and feeling the stone of the dragon platform again filled Osric with a sense of relief. Not too long ago, the thought of returning to Stanton seemed unlikely. However, he had not imagined his intended journey to speak with the irua would have ended the way it did either.

Gordyn and Dru stood nearby on the platform as they disembarked. Why his Vigiles were guarding the dragon platform was beyond him, but those questions could wait a bit longer. Osric took a deep breath, basking in the scent of home.

“Greyback, I want to thank you for the pleasure of your company. It has been an honor getting to know you.”

“Oh, the pleasure was all mine,” she spoke softly and placed her head on Osric’s shoulder, leaning in for his embrace. “I will be watching you with great interest High Wi…er, Osric. If you need anything, I will be close by.” She stumbled over the intended address, remembering his desire to remain anonymous.

“Wait here for just a moment, Greyback.” Osric motioned for Kenneth to say his goodbyes and made his way toward Gordyn on the steps of the platform. He had no idea if word had already reached Stanton of the dragons being free, so keeping up appearances was important. Both Gordyn and Dru had their attention on the city and had not noticed them land. They were clearly distracted by the progress on the palace and not bothering to take notice of all of the commotion of landing dragons around them.

“Gordyn.” Osric was greeted with a look of bewilderment when he called out the Vigile’s name.

“Archana be praised! What took ya so long?” Dru grinned awkwardly as Gordyn greeted Osric with a slap on the shoulder, but the young Vigile looked nervous trying to decide what action would be appropriate to greet his Contege. In the end, Dru offered a shy handshake. Osric did not hold the shyness against him; he had once been a young recruit and remembered the feeling.

“I’m afraid it is a bit too long a tale to tell at this time, my friend.” Osric shrugged off the question as he prepared his expression for his feign. He dug through the pouch on his belt, indicating his lack of resources. “Right now, I have to pay this dragon something for the journey back, or we may all have some trouble in the morning.”

“Let me see if I have the coins to cover it. I wouldn’t want this poor lad to wet himself again for fear of a dragon attacking,” Gordyn said, nudging Dru with his elbow and producing two gold pieces and a half dozen coppers from his own pouch.

Osric took one gold and the copper to offer Greyback. He would have a hard time convincing her to take anything at all, but he needed her to keep up the ruse.

“Relax, Dru, she is a very docile dragon. She would probably just pout until the fare was paid. Nobody has been attacked by a dragon in years, and never over a lack of payment,” Osric reassured the Vigile, then turned and made his way back to Kenneth and Greyback. He heard Gordyn continue to talk about the strength and ferocity of dragons as he walked away. “Have you two said your goodbyes?” Osric teased.

“Oh yeah, we even had the chance to start a budding romance.” Kenneth slapped Osric on the shoulder with a smile. “Took you long enough.”

“Greyback, don’t object to this, please,” Osric spoke softly as he held out the payment.

She had been laughing at Kenneth’s antics, but at his words Greyback grew silent and stared between Osric’s hand and his face.

“I cannot accept payment from you,” Greyback whispered softly.

“We need everyone to think that nothing has changed, Greyback. Take it, please.”

Greyback clearly was not happy having to take the offering, and she looked around the platform anxiously. Osric felt her pain, and he didn’t want to remind her of the years spent in enslavement, but there was no way around it. He struggled with the hurt he could see in her eyes as she searched for a reason to say no. It took her a few moments to concede, and she did not wear a thankful smile.

“I will take coppers, but I will not take gold. You can put that back in your pouch and tell them I was not happy with the amount you offered me,” Greyback growled softly as she faced Osric. Her head swung slowly toward his hand as she opened her mouth to accept the payment. Osric placed it on her tongue with a grateful smile.

“Thanks, Greyback, this helps more than you can know.” Osric was about to walk away, but he paused and looked back. “Greyback, I have always heard that dragons eat coins to aid in digestion, but the dragons at Braya were not fed coins. Why is it really that you swallow your payment?” Osric asked quietly, glancing around to be sure he wasn’t overheard.

Greyback cast her gaze down at the platform and Osric wondered if he had somehow offended her. “Osric, that is such a personal matter. I am surprised at you,” Greyback responded sheepishly.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to answer that. Forgive my intrusion on your private matters. I didn’t know it was such a delicate subject.” Osric retracted the inquiry, ashamed that he had embarrassed her.

Greyback glanced around, reassured by the distance between them and the nearest observer. With a raised eye ridge, she indicated that they should step closer to her. She rested her head on the platform and spoke in a low tone.

“You have earned the right to ask any question you wish, but you must swear to never tell another soul. Only those who helped to free us from our bondage can know, for dragons do not want the reason being well known.”

The soft but serious tone of her voice was sobering. Osric didn’t know how to respond, and he felt as though he was treading on ground few had traveled. He wanted to respect Greyback’s privacy, but he also felt that she was granting him a great honor, and he was unsure of how to proceed.

“Of course, my friend, but you don’t have to answer. I was only curious.”

“We do not actually swallow the payments.”

Osric was taken aback. He got the impression from the change of Greyback’s tone that she was sharing a funny secret, but she had such a serious expression in her eyes. Osric struggled to understand what her statement implied.

“We don’t mind at all that walkers believe we swallow the coins to aid in digesting our food,” she whispered. “It keeps them from looking for it anywhere other than our, um, droppings.” Greyback smiled fearsomely. “Some time after our elders were imprisoned, the walkers found our hoards of treasure and took them as their own. We have few places left in this world that we can stow our treasures without fear of robbery, and we were forbidden to defend ourselves against walkers for fear of retribution against our kin caged at Braya.”

Osric stared at her in disbelief. He fumed at the idea that further injustice had been done to the dragons, and there was little he could do about it other than find out who was responsible for containing the secret of the dragons’ imprisonment within his own realm. Kenneth snickered quietly, and Osric glared at him for his untimely display of humor.

“That explains why my father used to insist that my mother fetch him herbs from the market for his constipation rather than swallow the coppers my mother attempted to feed him!” Kenneth could hardly contain himself, but he kept his laughter and exclamations nearly silent, so as to only share it with the three of them. Osric couldn’t help but smile at the joke, but respectfully refrained from joining Kenneth’s tittering, due to the seriousness of Greyback’s explanation.

“Besides, this impressive sheen in my scales cannot be achieved by swallowing copper and gold.” Greyback winked at Osric. “Rather, it comes from lying upon it.” She stood up proud, a display of the shine of her scales in the torch light.

“Thank you for sharing this with us, Greyback. I hope to rid you all of this burden soon, and you can acquire and protect all the gold you want, simply for the benefit of your scales,” Osric whispered. “Now, I’m afraid we need to get on with our business. I will see you again soon my friend.” Osric grabbed the ragged book that was never far from his reach and tucked it in his belt as Kenneth gathered his gear. He resolved himself to eliminating any lingering injustice to the dragons by learning more about who was behind it.

Gordyn insisted that Dru accompany the two of them to see Toby. They followed the tentative, young Vigile as he led them along the walkway. Osric felt a rush of fear and concern as he observed the people all around him. The workers moving to and from the rubble carried themselves in a hopeless, half absent manner. Osric searched for, but failed to see, a single head held up with pride as they labored tirelessly in the twilight. Unfortunately, he doubted that their hopes would be rekindled in the near future. Although he hoped that the corruption did not extend far into the leadership of Stanton, Osric still felt apprehensive about trusting anyone other than Toby and James.

As they crossed over the path leading to the palace, they could just make out the sound of crumbling rock being joined into slabs for the walls by Stone-Melders. One large man caught Osric’s gaze as they approached. His dirty and tattered clothing hung from his frame. He sat against a tree alongside the path sipping water, and the soulless, tired stare shocked Osric, bringing him to a stop. The face of every man sitting on the matted grass was blanketed in despair. The big man stared blindly back at him, his entire body covered with dust and grime. His feet were bloodied from the holes worn through his boots, and seeping, swollen wounds were visible through several tears in his clothing. The crusty heel of a loaf of bread hung limply in his right hand. As though eating were an afterthought, he looked down at his hand and his eyes drifted closed. As his head sagged, the crust of bread rolled onto the ground near Osric’s feet and a low snore began to rumble from his chest. The man’s hair was matted to his tear-streaked face, and it seemed months or more since he last bathed. His left hand was clasped tightly into a fist at his side, white knuckled and clutching a lone, white daisy.

A chill ran up Osric’s spine as he realized he knew the man. He was hard to recognize without a nearby anvil, and the typical black leather apron was nowhere to be seen, but he knew the man. He was Macgowan, one of Stanton’s best blacksmiths. His wife, Kauna, whom he called Daisy after her favorite flower, had worked in the wash facilities in the palace. Osric had seen them many times stealing kisses as they walked hand in hand on the street. Macgowan walked his wife to work every day, whispering in her ear.

Her cheeks seemed to glow as they made their way through town, seeing no one but her devoted husband as he accompanied her on her walk. Kauna would run with a skip in her step, humming a tune and smiling, as she hurried to his shop to watch him finish his work every day.

A man as large and intimidating as Macgowan was rarely as affectionate; his muscled arms, massive frame, and rough, calloused hands turned tender when he closed his shop for the night and embraced his wife. Every man envied Macgowan, and every woman, Kauna. Osric could only assume the cause of his grief was the loss of his beloved, and he was sure he would know others that had lost loved ones in the attack.
I grieve with you, friend. I know she was everything to you,
Osric turned his head, unable to see someone so dear to Stanton changed forever.

Osric stopped abruptly in the middle of his stride and looked up at his escort. His uniform was neatly pressed with none of the grime that covered the exhausted, saddened workers nearby. Osric knew he could do nothing at that point to right the Vigiles’ failure to protect their loved ones, and he felt guilt weighing on his conscience. He couldn’t have done anything to stop the explosion, but he could do something to help the people.

“Dru,” he spoke sternly enough to get his attention, but not loudly enough to disturb Macgowan’s sleep. Dru turned with a quick, nervous jerk to meet his gaze.

“Yes, Contege?”

“Toby is in his temporary office, correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“We can find our own way to him. I want you to gather half of the Vigiles on guard duty and see to the needs of these men here,” Osric said, motioning with his head in the direction of Macgowan and those gathered around him in the grass.

“Sir,” Dru looked at the group anxiously, “there are hundreds of people like this in Stanton lately. They make the guards uncomfortable. All they do is weep and lay outside. That man there,” he pointed at Macgowan, “has beaten every Vigile that has asked him to go home. He’s gone mad, Sir. Mirdren is with the healers now. Macgowan beat him nearly to death when he tried to take his flower and send him home. They are harmless enough when left alone, and people toss them scraps on their way to rebuilding the palace. Perhaps leaving them alone is the best idea?”

Osric could see Dru’s apprehension, and hear it in his voice. He understood that the recruit was terrified to approach the intimidating man, especially after he had assaulted several Vigiles, but Osric could not allow his people to be neglected.

“They make you uncomfortable?” Osric repeated, outraged. “How do you think they feel? Their lives have been completely upheaved by an unexplainable attack on the one place they were supposed to be safe! They have lost their loved ones, and for some of them, that was all they had. Dru, I do not want you to ask them to leave, I want you to build them a shelter, here!” Osric glared at the shy man’s shocked expression. “Get some men to help you. You will feed them, shelter them, and make sure they are warm and comfortable. Provide them with firewood and show them that we share in their grief, while demonstrating that there is still good in the world and, perhaps, even something worth living for.” He watched as Dru looked nervously at the group again and added, “Dru, it was our duty to protect these people, right?”

“Yes, Sir.” Dru stared down at the ground, ashamed.

“Well,” Osric took a deep breath and looked out at them, “we failed them, and this is the result. Though there was no way for us to prevent it, we bear at least some of the responsibility for that failure and their loss. We cannot hope to restore their faith in us without helping them to find some hope again.” The young recruit was eyeing Macgowan again, and Osric sensed his fear with the Empath gift he had gained from Bridgett. “Dru, I will not ask that any of the men go near Macgowan. I will take care of him myself, but I want to see Vigiles down here working harder than any of these people laboring on the palace. I want to see these men being helped, rather than tolerated. Do you understand?”